The mont Robert spoke, Commissar Walter's weathered eyes sharpened like an eagle's. He gave the other man a deep look, and the air seed to solidify for a mont. Finally, he slowly nodded.
"If you are truly determined to fight, then I will not stop you—after all, you just created a miracle."
Walter's voice remained low, but there seed to be a subtle hint of expectation within it. He continued, "According to the rules of the Perditia Astra Militarum, every company has a formal Na. Have you thought of yours?"
As soon as Walter finished speaking, a clear system prompt box popped up on Robert's retina.
Promotion: Temporary Company Commander of the 13th Company → Permanent Company Commander of the 13th Company
Seeing this prompt, Robert was first happy, but this joy was fleeting, and he quickly cald down.
From "temporary" to "formal" sounded like a great thing, but on this Perditia, forgotten by the Empire, there was no difference between the two. He knew very well that Commissar Walter was now the highest military officer in this control area.
If he could promote him to Company Commander with a single word, he could naturally demote him to a common soldier with a single word. Perditia could not contact the distant Astra Militarum of the Empire. With the war in such a ss, promotions or demotions in rank were all decided by Commissar Walter alone.
Understanding this, he shifted his gaze from the illusory title and refocused on reality.
As for the company Na Walter ntioned, Robert did not imdiately give an answer but cautiously said, "Commissar, regarding this, I still need to discuss it with my brothers in arms."
He dared not run a one-man show in such a critical matter. Commissar Walter's appointnt only gave him a Na, but what truly supported his position as Company Commander was, in the end, the nearly hundred unruly players below him.
If the Na they chose displeased them, at best, it would affect morale, leading to superficial obedience in battle; at worst, if soone was unhappy with him, they might secretly give him a "friendly fire" shot on the battlefield, and he would have nowhere to cry.
After all, there was no way to turn off friendly fire in this ga. When he revived, no one would help Robert keep his exp and position.
Robert, holding this "hot potato" of an appointnt, returned to the temporary resting place of the players. He cleared his throat, attracting everyone's attention.
"Guys, the Commissar has new orders." He paused, then continued, "The Commissar has officially recognized our company's establishnt, and according to the tradition of the Perditia Astra Militarum, we need to choose a na for our company."
This news was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, instantly stirring up a thousand waves.
"Holy cow! Naming? Like creating a guild!"
"Aweso! This really gives a sense of imrsion!"
A small number of relatively "mature" players imdiately expressed concern: "Don't make the Na too chuunibyou. Calling ourselves sothing like 'Dragon Overlord' or 'God Slayers' would be embarrassing to shout out." T
hey preferred a plain designation, such as "13th Attack Company" or "Hamr Company," a simple and unadorned style.
However, their faint voices were quickly drowned out by the majority of ecstatic players. These guys, who feared no chaos, beca thoroughly excited and began their brainstorming.
For a ti, all sorts of bizarre designations were proposed.
So were -based: "How about 'Chaos Slayer Company'?"
"Why not 'Loyal Bellievers!"
"Inglorious bastards'!"
"I propose, 'Stardust Crusaders!"
So had unclear anings: "'Operation: Get Paid!"
"'Slackers' Company!"
"LEEEEEEERRROOY JENKIIIIIINS!"
And so were purely disruptive: "Requisition for Doughnuts' Company!"
Amidst the chaotic discussion, so players still proposed serious designations.
"I think we could be called 'The Immortals,'" one player said seriously. "This na best fits our identity; we are unkillable, we respawn after death."
This suggestion was approved by so, but others felt it wasn't cool enough.
"'The Immortals' is too blunt, it lacks gravitas," another player retorted. "And it sounds like undead. I propose, 'The Helldivers.'"
When this word ca out, the noisy discussions quieted down a little. It didn't directly flaunt their cheat-like abilities like "The Immortals" but instead carried a tragic and resolute sense of knowing the danger yet charging forward. Every charge, every death, was a journey actively rushing towards death.
This Na, both dark and cool, perfectly hit the aesthetic of most players.
Finally, under Robert's guidance, a small-scale democratic vote began. After intense lobbying and debate, "The Helldivers" won against "The Immortals" by a narrow margin, becoming their final choice.
Robert inford Commissar Walter of the result. The latter's eyes flickered slightly when he heard the Na, but he made no comnt, only nodding.
"In that case, rest well today. I've already had them send over the grenades in stock. Prepare for tomorrow's operation."
As his voice fell, new system prompts simultaneously appeared on all players' retinas.
System Prompt: Your affiliated company has been officially renad '13th Company · The Helldivers.'
System Prompt: You have received a new mission — 'Assault: Chemical Refinery.'
Mission Objective: Capture Chemical Refinery No. 9.
In the position, the players looked at the new mission, and instead of the tension before a major battle, there were wails everywhere.
"Ugh, why do we only start fighting tomorrow? My greatsword is already thirsty! Can we start today?"
"Starting today isn't so good either, my stats are dropping badly... Is there a buddy who can stab so I can revive at full health?"
"You should've said so earlier, I'm on it!" A player enthusiastically raised his entrenching tool.
"Hey, damn it! Wait for to take off this bulletproof vest before you do anything!"
"So what do we do next? Just wait all night?" A player sat bored on an ammo box.
Just then, a player's gaze was drawn to the person next to him. The person was sitting upright, hands moving rapidly in the air, seemingly manipulating a ga panel to write sothing. He curiously leaned over and asked, "What are you doing, buddy?"
The other person replied without looking up, "Doesn't this ga have triple thought acceleration? Anyway, I have nothing to do right now, and I'm a designer in real life, so I'm just rushing out the client's commision.
After I finish it, I'll post it on the ga forum, set it to private, and then copy and paste it to hand in after I log off."
At this, the surrounding players who heard him were stunned.
"Do you have to work even in the ga? You, you..."
"Genius!"
"Wait wait...GUYZ he's drawing hentai!"
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